Broken Routines
by AkuIku
Summary: Her plan was foolproof really ... BruceBarbara
1. Chapter 1

Well I've been frustrated with my stories and what I've been writing lately - so I decided to try out the 30kisses theme list to see if I'd get inspired. This is the first one I've written - the theme is "good mood". Just a little something which I started this afternoon and finished tonight. Hope you like - AkuIku

* * *

He was smiling . . .

It wasn't a grin or a smirk, it wasn't even the fake smile he used out in public to maintain his playboy image - no it was an actual smile . . . and Tim had never been more scared in his life.

He had never seen Bruce this happy before, certainly not this early in the morning. No he was used to coming down to breakfast to find his adoptive father barricaded behind the latest edition of the Gotham post. The only conversation he'd get was a few grunts and a mumbled goodbye as Bruce headed out to work. Yet here he was - smiling while sipping at a cup of coffee. He hadn't even touched this morning's newspaper.

Glancing from the corner of his eyes he watched the man beside him as he ate. He sat there in a pair of black silk pajama pants and a red bathrobe. Looking as though he had just rolled out of bed, grabbed a robe and gone to breakfast. This was something entirely unlike the Bruce Wayne Tim had grown to know.

He was usually meticulous in his appearance. Showing up for breakfast only after he had showered, shaved, and dressed immaculately. His sudden disregard for his appearance was unsettling, as was the sudden breach of his morning routine. For change was not something Bruce underwent willingly.

"Is something wrong Timothy?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tim blinked . . . "No nothing is wrong"

"Then why might I ask, have you been staring at me like that?" He asked setting down his fork and watching his young ward as he hesitantly tried to answer his question.

"Your smiling . . . you don't smile"

"I can if I want to"

Tim sighed, grabbing his backpack and following Alfred out of the kitchen and off to school.

'Sometimes he really didn't understand Bruce'

It wasn't until, five minutes later when Barbara slipped into the kitchen that the source of Bruce's smile became evident. Yawning she entered the room dressed only in Bruce's black silk pajama top.

"I see the coast is clear." She joked with a smile. Padding over to the table, she gave Bruce a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down in the seat Tim had just vacated.

"I don't know how you can stand to get up this early" She said as he poured her a cup of coffee.

"After all these years I'm used to late nights and early mornings." He said with a smile.

"You know if you keep that up - someone will get suspicious." Warned Barbara.

Shrugging Bruce glanced at the woman beside him. "What can I say, I'm in a good mood"

* * *

Well there it is - what do you think? As always reviews are always appreciated - AkuIku 


	2. Gardenia

Well it's been awhile once again, I've really had a horrible case of writers block until a few days ago... everything I wrote I hated ... I just glanced back at this piece which I wrote months ago and went hey - it's actually ok ... I always thought it needed more , but now after re-reading it I think it's fine by itself.

I'm almost done with the first chapter of my batman story ... I swear I'm never happy with it - I've changed it so many times that it's almost completely different from the original stories I based it upon. (I started off with 2 - then merged them together ... then re-edited... then changed it like five more times...)

So I hope you enjoy this next piece, it's Gardenia ... hopefully I'll be posting more often from now on ... leave a review if you like it - AkuIku

* * *

It always amazed her ... the length he'd go to while seeking her forgiveness. It was almost as amazing as the neglect he showed her both physically and emotionally on a daily bases.

For instance to make up for her birthday, the latest occasion in a string of events he'd forgotten, he sent her a stunning floral arrangement comprising of nothing but white gardenias. Quite the feat considering they were out of season, and he must have had them flown in especially for her.

A thought which would have touched her, if not for the fact that she hated white gardenias ...

Well, she hated the color white in general... white to her always represented something pure and virginal, something she was not. Something her current lover had no reason to remind her of.

Sometimes she thought he did things like this as some cruel kind of joke, other times she thought he did it just out of spite. Tonight, she supposed he forgot to tell his new secretary that she hated all things white with a passion ... that thought wasn't any more comforting then the last. She had much rather believed he took the time to send her these himself (even out of spite) then to realize she had become another one of his delegated tasks. Some little detail to be taken care of by one of his subordinates.

She hadn't even opened the card ... she didn't need to, it was always the same.

Happy Birthday Barb,

Sorry for the belated gift, I got caught up with work.

I promise to make it up to you later,

- B

Yep, that was it.

A halfhearted apology and a promise that he couldn't possibly keep. Hell, he never even signed his name. In all honesty he most likely never saw the card. No, he dictated the words to be written over the intercom to his secretary- who would then relay it to the florists.

Yes it was an all to common means of obtaining forgiveness in this twisted relationship of theirs. He'd screw up - he'd buy her something - she'd forgive him.


	3. Excessive Chain

Ok - Here's another update ... and yes the story I posted I took down - big surprise ... I've decided I'm going to keep working on it and finish it before I post it - because otherwise it will never get done and I'll never be happy with it.

So that means more Drabbles - this one is a scene I wrote and then didn't use in my story ... so I added a little to it and bam - here it is ... hope you like, as always review and tell me what you think - AkuIku

* * *

It was three forty-five in the morning when I finally got fed up with waiting for him to come to bed. Lately he hadn't been sleeping, and it showed by his ever darkening mood. Grabbing my robe, I headed toward his study, and down the steps to the cave. From the bottom of the stairs I called out to him through the darkness, his form barely visible in the glow of the computer monitor.

"Bruce it's late . . . you should get some sleep"

"I'm busy"

"It's almost four in the morning Bruce and you have a meeting at seven I really think . . . "

"I don't care what . . . " He managed to stop himself mid-sentence, perhaps I should give him credit for realizing his mistake . . . but the damage was already done. For a moment there was only silence and I just stood there staring at him, then turned and left. I could hear him calling out to me but I didn't listen . . . and that night I didn't return to his bed.

* * *

When we argued, I always found myself sitting alone in my neglected apartment, wondering what exactly we were doing.

"Barbara I didn't mean . . . "

And he'd always slip through one of the windows, and try to explain himself. Tonight I just didn't feel like listening to another one of his excuses.

"Ever since I joined the league I've been neglecting my . . . "

"Family . . . ?" I said with a raised eyebrow. "Your completely right Bruce - Tim has been complaining about how he never sees you anymore. And I know you haven't even tried to speak to Dick in over a month. And I'm sure I'd see you even less if we didn't occasionally share a bed."

"Barbara . . . " Perhaps it was wishful thinking but Bruce actually sounded sorry for once. But that didn't stop my biter response from issuing forth.

"I'm so happy that you finally decided to take the time to reassess your priorities - maybe next time you might pick a more conventional hour in which to deliberate."

And by the time I had turned around he was gone, an open window the only proof he had been there in the first place. And I was once again left alone wondering just what we were doing.


	4. cradle

Wow - two posts in one night ... how much do you love me right now...? This is another one of the scenes from my old story - on I really liked, but I could never get it to fit in to everything else I wrote ... so I added a bit and this is what I ended up with ... not as profound as I would have liked but - hey I can only do so much ... review,review,review - AkuIku

* * *

Bruises, a common place in her line of work. They marred her pale skin, from the subtlest hues of yellow to gruesome shades of black. Barbara sighed as she turned off her shower, ending the stream of hot water which had soothed her aching muscles. She grabbed a towel wrapping it around her lithe form, and used another to dry her auburn locks. Sitting down Barbara began to treat her wounds. She struggled, feeling a sharp pain with every intake of breath. She had broken most of her ribs. She should have taken Batman up on his offer to go back to the cave and administer first aid. But her pride hadn't allowed her to.

In her mind she still liked to believe that he didn't know who it was beneath the mask of Batgirl.

So instead she had told him she was fine. That her injuries were only minor, and all she needed was to go back to her apartment and rest. It was a lie and Batman knew it. He had this annoying ability of always knowing when she lied to him. But he hadn't protested, no instead he had followed her as she journeyed home. He had kept his distance but still she had felt his presence, felt his gaze as he watched her. And yet she had continued on like nothing was amiss. As if that would trick him into believing her. No, it hadn't and she was sure he was still nearby lurking in the shadows.

She didn't hear him as he slipped in her bedroom window. But she knew he was there, standing behind her, she could once again feel his eyes on her. She didn't bother turning around, didn't bother saying anything. Instead she continued on in her endeavors, failing miserably in her effort to wrap her chest. Her pain limiting her movements, she gasped as a sharp stab went through her. The cause of which, was a large hand that had found its way to her side. Barbara struggled to breathe as Batman felt his way around her rib cage. She cried out when he touched a particularly sore spot.

By then he had seen enough, she was far from fine. He had known that from the beginning, but not the full extent of her injuries. Cradling her in his arms he carried her out of her bathroom and lay her down on her bed. Disappearing for a moment he returned to her bedroom, first aid kit in hand. He found her dressed in a pair of black shorts with a towel covering her chest. Removing his gloves he grabbed some bandages and sat down on the side of her bed. Barbara tried her best to will away the blush which rose to her cheeks as she dropped the towel. Nonetheless she turned her head away and refused to look at him. Gently he started to wrap the cloth around her rib cage, repeating the motion over and over again. Until there was a thick layer of bandages covering her chest.

Barbara had wisely remained silent, for the tension between them was palpable. She probably would have tried to apologize or at least make up some argument in her favor if it hadn't been for the fact that a strange man she hardly knew was methodically wrapping bandages around her bare chest. Something which he seemed completely unfazed by, which only served to irritated her more.

He helped her lay back in bed, watching as she winced in pain. Putting on his gloves, he got up to leave. Not bothering to turn around he said "You know Barbara that was really stupid" and then disappeared into the night.

Barbara wasn't sure why but for some reason she had cried that night. Slowly she had drifted off to sleep, tears threatening to spill over her half-closed eyes. And it was then she decided to do better, if not for herself then for him.

_Because she never wanted to feel like this again . . ._

If only she had known such goals were unobtainable, maybe she would have given up her crime fighting then and there.


	5. the space between dream and reality

Well I have some time off from work - so that means more updates! This next one is a combination of 3 extreamly short drabbles ... hope you like it - AkuIku

* * *

In the beginning I would sneak out of the manor under the cover of darkness. Every morning was the same, I would silently leave his bed, gather my clothes and dress. He wouldn't try to stop me- I never asked to stay... that was just the way things were.

One morning months later when I tried to slip out of bed I felt him lay his hand on my arm. That was as much of an invitation to stay as I would ever receive. But even so, the weight of his silent request was enough to make me slide back into bed and settle beside him.

* * *

Sleep never came easy to Bruce, he had been plagued by nightmares since the death of his parents. To this day he still wakes up panicked, as if he doesn't recognize his own room, the room he's lived in for the last thirty years.

It always takes him a moment to compose himself, and then every so often I'd feel his eyes come to rest upon me, and I'd pretend not to notice. It was weird at first, how he'd watch me some times ... as if he was just checking to make sure I was really there. Like I was some kind of figment of his imagination. He had to have know I was awake, but it didn't matter ... He never said anything and neither did I.

I often wondered what he saw when he stared at me, but I never had the nerve to ask him. He wouldn't have told me anyway. I may have been sleeping with him, but even so some things were off limits. Actually most things were off limits, and I understood and respected that invisible boundary he had erected between us.

If it was a good night he would eventually fall back to sleep. If not I'd hear the rustling of sheets as he quietly made his way out of the room and down the hall. On those nights he'd never make it back to bed, and I can only imagine what he was doing.

* * *

Well there's another one - review and tell me what you think, thanks -AkuIku


	6. Rain

Ok - really short one .. I know, sorry - I tried adding more to it but then changed it back to how it was in the beginning - it's a less is more statement ... I just really wanted to leave the ending like it is.-AkuIku

* * *

Rain always seemed to darken his mood . . .

Often I'd find him staring out the windows of the Manor, waiting for the storm clouds to roll in.

I suppose he could feel the rain before it came - a dull ache in every joint, in every healed bone, beneath every scar . . .

Rain always seemed to put him in a philosophical mood . . .

Which was never a good thing for a man haunted by so many demons.

It always surprised me what he'd come up with when left alone with his thoughts.

He once remarked that rain was heaven's tears come to wash away the sins of the world.

Which had thrown me since Bruce was never a religious man . . .

Over the years he had seen many things and if anything he had come to resent the implications of God as some benevolent higher power.

Which was what made his statement all the more confusing, yet from the look in his eyes I could tell he actually meant it . . .

I chose to quietly remind him that he didn't believe in god - or heaven.

He said that sometimes he wished that he could . . .

and for once I agreed with him . . .

* * *

There it is - I'll try and update again soon - review please I love people's imput! - AkuIku 


	7. Still

OK - here's a short one, it's just Bruce's POV and not really dealing with any relationship - just something I thought up a while ago and wanted to use somewhere... I have another one I'm still working on - I'm not completely sure about it - going to edit it a bit more.

Enjoy - and as always please review - Akuiku

* * *

The feel of the wind on your face as you fly through the air becomes addicting after a while. The rush that shoots through your body as you take that first leap off a roof is indescribable. Almost as much as the agony which overcomes you with each person you fail to save. The mixture of pain and pleasure is enough to drive even the sanest of men to the brink of madness. And Bruce Wayne was never foolish enough to believe himself completely sane.

Perched atop the roof of the Wayne Enterprise building, his eyes blankly gazed upon the city which surrounded him. It had been a quiet night, a welcome brake from the normal chaos that seemed to encompass Gotham. He should have been at home, gaining back precious hours of lost sleep. Yet he couldn't bring himself to go home - not now, his mind was a flurry of thoughts ... none of which seemed to make sense. Closing his eyes he sighed into the darkness - he was getting too old for this...


	8. Snow

It's been a while since my last update ... sorry - I just can't seem to write anything I like. Maybe I'm being to hard on myself - but still I don't like posting things I'm unhappy with ... so hers another short drabble - hope you like - AkuIku

* * *

It was snowing again . . . yet another cold front had moved into the area blanketing the city in a layer of white. Barbara had always enjoyed the snow. It seemed the only time when Gotham could ever look pure and innocent. She laughed to herself at the thought, something which did not go unnoticed by her companion.

"What's so funny?" He asked, eyes barely glancing sideways in her direction.

The wind ruffled her hair as she turned to answer him. "I was just thinking how beautiful Gotham looks covered in snow . . . majestic almost." She said a small smile breaking out upon her face.

"Looks can be deceiving." He said this time turning his head to look at her.

Shaking her head, her smile faltered a bit as she turned to face the city once again. "That was exactly what I was reminding myself . . . even so, the city does look beautiful tonight - especially from up here . . . you've got the best view in Gotham."

From the corner of her eye she could just make out a hit of a smile tugging at his lips.

He spoke again, and she silently wondered if he was going for a new record.

"It's getting colder. We should head back to the cave."

The way he said it was even more surprising, it wasn't a command. There was no hint of a threat or an order lurking in his voice. Simply a statement, and considering how cold it had gotten a fairly logical on at that. Part of her longed for the warmth and comfort of the indoors. But another part of her simply wanted to stay on that rooftop forever. She sighed, eventually the cold would get to her. And eventually she would have to leave... but not now.

"You go, I don't mind the cold - and I'd like to enjoy the view for a bit longer - while it lasts." She said, whispering the last part to herself.

Gazing off toward the city below us, she expected to hear the rustle of his cape as he swept into the darkness . . . yet she heard nothing. Staring out into the night she wondered why he chose to stay with her. As the silence engulfed them, she wondered if it was the view or the prospect of a pure uncorrupted Gotham which kept them from leaving the rooftop. She supposed the later to be the truth, although she'dl never claim to understand the workings of Bruce's mind. His motives were as always entirely his own.


	9. The waiting game

Well here's another drabble I just thought up ... I just finished my new chapter for my Batman story yesterday, yet I still feel like writing. So I've been making a few short pieces, thinking about maybe writing amother story... hope you like - AkuIku

* * *

A cool wind swept across the open lawn, picking up flakes of the freshly fallen snow. Making it seem as though flurries had begun again. Barbara stood alone, gazing out over the lawns and gardens which surrounded Wayne Manor. Her hair whipping about in the wind, both cheeks made rosy pinky from the cold.

She was upset... Bruce could tell just by the way she stood there, desolately staring off at nothing.

He also knew that if he waited long enough, she would eventually find her way back to his bed.

Part of him yearned to comfort her, to take her in his arms, and sooth away her pain and fear. But he knew better then to give in to this desire. One time, and one time alone he had dared to venture out onto the terrace and join her in her contemplation. He could still remember they way she had turned away from him. The way her eyes had clouded over with hurt and anger.

Her words "Leave me to my misery." had cut him like a knife. And he had retreated abashed to the safety of the Manor, never again trying to come to her aide.

Sighing Bruce turned away from the window, allowing the curtain to fall back into place.

He would wait, as he always did on nights like this. Because that was the least he could do for the woman he loved.


	10. a man who gets what he wants

Just a little something I had lying around - wrote it ages ago, never used it so I decided to add it to my drabble series, enjoy-AkuIku

* * *

I was so tiered of the fear and the loneliness and the pain, that for once I just acted. As we stood there at the window watching the darkened night, I reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. I had been expecting him to act surprised or even jerk his hand out of my grasp. But he did just the opposite, curling his fingers around mine and gently squeezing my hand in his. Letting out the breath I had been holding I sighed, glancing at him from the corner of my eye briefly.

"I should go home"

"I know"

Even though we said it neither one of us went to move. Instead we stood there, hands intertwined gazing up at the endless night sky. And for a while, the world wasn't such a lonely place, and anything seemed possible.

Suddenly I felt his fingers slipping from my grasp, and I knew that in a moment I would find myself standing alone, all signs of my former companion gone. It was the perfect metaphor for our relationship and my life ... I'd always come so close only to have the things I want slip away.

"Good night Bruce" I whispered while watching his back move farther and farther away in the reflection of the glass.

He must have herd me, for he stopped in his retreat and glanced back at me.

"You don't have to go ... you can always stay..."

And I knew what he said was true, I had always had an open invitation at the Manor. And I had often taken Bruce up on his offer after long nights and endless hours of research and patrolling ... but never before had he offered what he did now, an open invitation to his bed ... an offer I wasn't sure I should be excepting.

I was ready to turn him down, but I made the mistake of looking him the eyes. The saying 'the eyes are the windows of the soul' had never been truer then in that one moment. The longer I gazed into his stormy blue eyes the more I felt my resolve slowly slipping away.

"You really are a very hard man to resist Bruce..." I whispered trying to walking past him to the door. I hesitated my hand resting on the handle of the door, just long enough for him to stand behind me. Leaning down, hands resting upon my shoulders, he whispered in my ear "I always get what I want." his hot breath tickling the shell of my ear and causing me to shiver.

"I know..." I sighed "but not yet."

And with that I opened the door and swept down the vacant halls of Manor, stopping long enough to grab my coat and purse from Alfred mutter a quick good-bye, and leave for the safety of my apartment.


	11. Undaunted

Hey, here's another post - something I've had lying around for a while. I want to thank everyone who keeps reviewing - you guys are the reasons why I continue to write. Broken Routines has turned into a place for me to post all the things I've written, liked - but haven't been able to fit in my story. As you can probably tell, I've got a bit of a dark side which comes through every now and then. Rise of the Oracle has turned lighter then I had planned, but for now I'm just going with it. I plan to do a darker fic. after I finish Rise of the Oracle, and have another idea for an elseworld-ish fic. ... but I'm getting off course - here's my new post, there's another one after it that ties in. Hope you like -AkuIku

* * *

I believe it was around the fifth time I ended up in bed with him that I actually brought up the notion of us being in some kind of relationship. Something which he flatly denied... much to my chagrin. Apparently we had some kind of understanding ... unfortunately I seemed to miss what it actually was.

It wasn't till the second month of our tumultuous affair that I started to ponder just what it was we were doing. At the time all we seemed to be doing was fighting - mainly over wether we had a relationship or not.

"It's a date! One date ... dinner and a movie, what the hell is so hard about that!" I had questioned while throwing my hands up in the air. The argument had only just started and already I was furiously pacing before the fireplace.

"For the last time Barbara, No - I don't date ... at least not seriously" Bruce had said while shaking his head. The files he had been trying to read only moments ago lay forgotten on the couch beside him.

"Why not Bruce ... Why not try it"

"Because it would never work" The sedateness of his voice only seemed to agitate me more. I could never understand how he could act so calm when we were fighting. He'd hardly raise his voice to me at all, which lead me to believe he was patronizing me.

"How can you be so sure?" I demanded.

"Because it never does - not with me" From the way he stated it I knew he believed it whole heartedly and it hurt. Because it was at these moments when I felt nothing but dirty and used. At first I had been so angry that I was unable to form complete sentences.

"Ugh ... how can you... why would you ..."

After a while I stopped sputtering and fixed him with a glare.

"If it's not going to work out, then why sleep with me in the first place!" I had screeched, my voice echoing throughout the Manor.

Bruce remained silent, fixing me with a look full of reproach. Despite my anger I managed to have the decency to blush in embarrassment. No doubt Alfred and Tim had heard my last comment ...

" Look I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done that. I'm a grown woman acting like a child who didn't get her way. I'm far to old to be throwing temper tantrums..."

Still Bruce remained silent.

Sighing I sat down next to him, casting a weary glance in his direction.

"You known I won't give up right" I whispered, eyes fixated on the fire in front of me. Trying my best to fight back the tears which were forming in the corners of my eyes.

He snorted lightly, a sad smile pulling at his lips, his eyes sliding shut.

It had always been a matter of pride for me - that I never allowed others to see me cry. And Bruce knew that out of everyone, I made it a point to never once shed a tear in his presence - no matter how badly I wanted to.

In his mind, if he couldn't give me what I wanted the least he could do was let me leave with my pride intact. Because no matter how much I doubted it - he cared for and respected me... and he had never meant to hurt me. He waited until he heard the sound of the door being closed to open his eyes. And when he did he found himself once again alone.

"_You known I won't give up right"_ Barbara's words still hung in the air long after she had left.

"From you I'd expect nothing less..." He whispered all the while trying to ignore the hollow ache forming in his chest.


	12. A lesson that all men must learn

Well, here's the follow up to the previous post - also something I wrote a while ago. They were originally to completely different pieces, that I managed to tie together. Let me know what you think - AkuIku

* * *

Alcohol was known to impair one's judgement. Which is why in general Bruce Wayne refrained from drinking, excluding the occasional glass of wine with dinner. Anything more, and Bruce could potentially jeopardize his mission. Something his sense of commitment, bordering upon obsession, would never allow him to do. Which is why Alfred was so surprised with the sight which currently met him.

Slumped back in a large arm chair Bruce Wayne sat glaring at the roaring fire before him, a half empty glass of brandy clutched in his right hand. Alfred sighed, for Bruce was obviously the cause of Mistress Barbara's hasty departure. That in itself wasn't so surprising, but the way in which he was handling himself was. It was on an almost infinite amount of previous occasions that Bruce's inability to communicate, unwillingness to socialize, and generally offensive disposition had sent person or persons fleeing the confines of the manor. And every time Bruce had seemed relieved with the departure of his guests.

Yet here he was, drowning his sorrows in the finest Brandy money could buy. Which could only mean one thing ... he had done or more then likely said something extremely stupid again.

Clearing his throat Alfred made his presence known then silently stood beside the chair containing his master.

"Now Master Bruce, it is not a habit of mine to interfere with your personal affairs ..." At this Bruce gave a very undignified snort, then took another gulp of brandy. " ...But something seemed to have upset Mistress Barbara greatly before she left, would I be correct in assuming that something was you?"

When posed with this question Bruce downed the rest of his drink before answering in a gruff voice. "You know it was Alfred"

"And what pray tell, Master Bruce, did you say to upset her so?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Grunted Bruce who's eyes remained fixed on the empty glass he was twirling in his hand.

"Come now, Master Bruce, it couldn't have been that bad." Sighing Bruce got up from his seat once again walking the familiar path to the side bar. Pouring himself another glass of brandy, he smiled a bitter smile.

Taking another swig of his drink Bruce turned to look at his faithful servant. "Tell me Alfred what kind of a man gives out open invitations to his bed?"

The look on Alfred's face was for a moment pure astonishment, which then turned quickly to that of reproach.

"Why Master Bruce I hope you are not suggesting that you propositioned Miss Gordon."

"Of course not Alfred..." Said Bruce, eyes narrowing as he once again collapsed into his chair. Clearly offended Bruce nonchalantly turned to Alfred. "I've been sleeping with her for the last year- I hardly have to persuade her to come to bed with me - she does it willingly."

Alfred gaped for a few moments, mouth hanging wide open, he managed to mutter "Oh, my word"

Mouth shutting with a deafening click, Alfred continued to stare blankly at Bruce. Behind them a grandfather clock struck midnight, it's chimes echoing through the room. Snapping back to reality, the older man, still a bit shaken made his way to the side bar. "Forgive me sir, but I believe I am in need of some refreshments - that was quite a shock..."

Bruce waited for his old friend to settle in the chair across from him, a glass of sherry in hand. Once he had, he began to lament upon his situation - an action which he would entirely blame upon the large amounts of alcohol he had consumed.

"I don't understand what's wrong Alfred ... I try to do the right thing - yet every time I end up hurting her more." Bruce said his wide, slightly blood shot, eyes gazed up at Alfred imploringly as he slumped in his chair.

Sighing Alfred silently wondered if it was through any fault of his own, that Bruce had turned out to such an emotionally challenged individual. "Might I suggest Master Bruce that you go about things in a different way."

"How so...?" Asked Bruce leaning forward in anticipation.

"Master Bruce it seems to me that you've come to an impasse... you can either do your best to part amicably..." Bruce's bitter laughter filled the room, as he muttered something along the lines of - amicable my ass ...

"you saw her when she left" Bruce said, leveling Alfred with an annoyed look.

Alfred ignored his remark, continuing on in his advice. "...Or you could try to put aside your fear of commitment, and embark upon a real relationship."

Bruce rolled his eyes, sighing in frustration. "Don't you think I know that Alfred. But it's not that easy..." He said, eyes fixated on the fire once more.

"Life never is sir ..." Alfred quietly replied, eyes gazing sadly at the shell of a man who sat before him. He'd never noticed before, just how much Bruce had lost of himself. He seemed almost unrecognizable now, in the muted light of the fire.

"It's dangerous enough now, and to the world we're nothing but acquaintances...could you imagine what it would be like if we were seen as anything more... How else am I supposed to keep her safe Alfred... how else am I supposed to protect her." Bruce said, gazing hopefully at the older man. Wishing for some kind of flaw in all his rationalizations.

"Perhaps that is the problem sir... Miss Gordon has never sought your protection... your trust, your respect - and I suppose even your love ... but never once did she want you to shield her from the evils of the world - evils which she face every night might I add. " Said Alfred, once again slipping into the roll of faithful servant.

Picking up Bruce's empty glass, which lay forgotten on the floor by his chair, Alfred grabbed his own glass and returned to the side bar.

"She's not as innocent as you want her to be ... she never has been, and she never will be... that's something you both have in common, sir." Alfred said, glad for a moment that Bruce was currently facing away from him so that he didn't have to see his reaction.

Bruce's next words shocked Alfred, almost as much as the apparent ease at which Bruce stood up. Turning with alarming steadiness, considering the amount of Brandy he had drunk, Bruce faced Alfred.

"You think I don't know that - that I haven't always known that ... I'm a smart man Alfred, I know when I'm being manipulated - and I know when to look the other way." Bruce said slowly making his way to the doorway of his den.

"A bit of a double standard I suppose" Alfred said, and Bruce supposed that maybe he was right.

He hated being played the fool, anyone else and they never would have gotten away with it. Bruce's response was the first thing which came to mind. "She's special"

He knew it wasn't really an excuse, but for him it was enough.

Alfred smiled, his accent once again becoming chipper. "I believe sir, that is the one thing out of this entire conversation on which we can agree."

Bruce smiled back, leaning lazily against the doorjamb. "So what do I do now?"

If Bruce hadn't had so much to drink then he probably could have made out the smirk which made its way onto Alfred's face. "Well Sir, have you thought of sending her some flowers - perhaps a card."

Bruce groaned, burying his head in his hands. "You've got to be kidding me."

Shaking his head at the young man's naivete, Alfred made his way to the door. Reaching up to pat Bruce lightly on the shoulder, Alfred spared him a bemused glance.

"This is a lesson every man must learn for himself, when all else fails - grovel"


	13. Gratification

Wow - I really must say I'm surprised by how much you've liked this so far ... It really isn't a story - or at least it was never menat to be. It was basically some where for me to post all the things that couldn't fit into my story. Some of these I've had done for years ... anyway, these later posts are a bit more connected - I hope you guys like this one, keep up with the revies - AkuIku

* * *

I'm sorry ...

She hated how those words could make her cave, or more precisely how those words said by Bruce could make her cave. Until tonight he'd never uttered those words to her, she doubted he'd ever uttered those words to anyone, and perhaps that was why she gave in so easily to him. It had seemed right at the moment ... looking back though, she supposed he'd once again played her for a fool.

She could feel his calloused fingertips, lazily tracing patterns over the bare skin of her back. Stretched out upon his chest, Barbara rose and fell with every breath he took. The gentle pounding of his heart, threatening to send her off to sleep.

Sighing, Barbara tried to sit up - only to find herself trapped within Bruce's strong embrace.

"Bruce let go"

She'd startled him by her tone, Barbara could tell by the way he quickly released her from his hold. Scrambling to sit up in bed, Barbara tugged at the sheets, wrapping one around her chest.

"What's wrong"

Barbara actually hesitated, before getting out of bed, turning to meet Bruce's confused gaze.

Remaining silent, Barbara only shook her head before beginning to gather her clothes off his bedroom floor.

"You're leaving"

It was more of a statement then a question, and Barbara didn't feel the need to answer it. She simply began to dress, refusing to glance in Bruce's direction, even though the whole time she could feel his eyes glued to her.

"You're still mad, aren't you?"

Sighing, Barbara turned to him annoyance clearly showing on her face. "What did you expect... a nice dinner, and some roses to make everything better...?"

Bruce frowned, eyes narrowing at her - the effect of which was none, seeing as Barbara had long ago gotten used to his glares. " It was more then that, I gave you what you wanted."

Barbara scoffed, eyes glinting dangerously back at him. "...what I wanted - you mean a date ... well that was certainly very generous of you..." She spat, crumpling up the sheet she had been wearing and tossing it back at him.

Now he was even more confused, she could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed, his frown becoming almost a pout. Sitting up fully in bed, Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. "I was trying to make you happy"

Unfortunately his answer did nothing, but upset Barbara more. "You don't give a damn about wether or not I'm happy, if you did you wouldn't have used me for the last year like some whore!"

The minute the words left her mouth she regretted them, or at least regretted speaking them out loud. Since the beginning, she'd always had that little voice whispering those words in the back of her mind. And she'd done her best over the past year to ignore it.

"I can't do this anymore Bruce ..."She'd said it so softly she wasn't sure Bruce had heard her, and when he remained silent she supposed he hadn't.

Or at least she had, until his voice brought her out of her own thoughts.

"Can't do what ...?"

Barbara cringed, eyes darting nervously about the room in an effort to look at anything but Bruce.

"This ... this thing - whatever it is going on between us ... I can't do it anymore." Barbara said, worriedly gnawing at her lower lip, eyes glassing over with tears. " It's too hard, Bruce ... at first - at first I could handle it ... there were no expectations, no strings attached... and that was fine the first couple of times ... but I'm not like you, I can't pretend to feel nothing - I'm no good at it..."

"You're leaving me" The lack of emotion behind his words further validated Barbara's fears.

She'd never meant anything to him - she'd just been an amusement ... something to distract him from his ever darkening thoughts.

"All we're doing now is hurting each other..." Barbara said, turning to look him dead in the eye.

"I'm not going to ask you to stay"

"Of corse not" Barbara replied bitterly, trying to ignore the sickening feeling which had taken hold of her stomach.

Bruce turned away, eyes glancing out the frosted glass of his balcony's doors. "I tired, you know... I tried to give you what you wanted..." He said, and Barbara forced herself to ignore the almost haunted look which overcame him.

"Sad thing is Bruce, the one thing I've always wanted... was something you could never give me." His eyes found her's once again, a sea of emotions immersed in blue staring stormily at her.

Sighing Barbara walked forward, sitting down at the end of his bed, she grasped one of his hands. Thumb brushing lightly against the back of his hand, memorizing the way he felt. "Even I've realized, that in the end I will never be enough for you. Your married to your work Bruce, always have been - always will be. The mission comes first. And I'm tiered of being your mistress - it just hurts too much."

She leaned in to give him one finale kiss, it was to be her parting to him and this whole disastrous affair. Yet as she went to pull away, she once again found herself trapped within his embrace.

"I might not know the right words to say, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you" She shuddered as he spoke, his lips brushing carelessly against the skin of her neck.

She should have struggled, she should have yelled, she should have done anything but give in... but she couldn't, her heart had betrayed her yet again. And as she felt him pull her closer, she couldn't stop the tears which silently trickled down each of her cheeks.

With each piece of clothing that fell to the floor, she lost a little more of her self-respect. And with each sigh he drew from her lips, she lost a little more of her will to fight. Until she could do nothing more then submit herself fully to Bruce and his desires.

* * *

Well that's it so far - I'll try to post again either today or tomorrow - AkuIku 


	14. Love

A very brief one, which really has nothing to do with the other posts I've made... just something that came to me -AkuIku

* * *

She loved when they danced ...

She loved the way he'd pull her close, his hand resting gently on the small of her back.

She loved the way he'd burry his face in her hair, as she lay her head on his chest.

She loved the way he'd grasp her hand, fingers intertwining with her own.

She loved the tingle which would shoot through her body, as he whispered softly into her ear.

She loved the way he'd spin her around the dance floor.

She loved they way he'd make the rest of the world just fade away.

But most of all ... she just loved him.


	15. Desperate Times

Another short post - don't worry there will be a follow up to it. Thanks for your reviews, keep them coming - AkuIku

* * *

She was desperate ...

That was the only reason she ever considered going to Bruce with her personal problems. God knows- the man had more then enough of his own issues to work through before trying to tackle any of hers. But as she had said before- she was desperate.

It took almost an hour for Barbara to work up enough courage to ask him. The whole time she had pretended to work on her bike while silently watching him from the corner of her eye.

"Do you think sometime we could talk?"

Her question struck him as odd. Raising an eyebrow his hands stilled upon the computer key's.

Barbara mentally cringed... so much for finesse.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "We're talking right now"

Rolling her eyes, Barbara sighed.

"No I mean without the cape and cowls. Like normal people - without the feelings of impending doom hanging over us."

He hesitated before turning away from the computer screen to glance at the redhead behind him. He could barely see her from his seat. She lay upon the floor of the cave ensconced in routine maintenance of her bike.

"Why"

"Why not?" She replied not bothering to look away from her task. "Isn't that the type of thing friends normally do?"

"We're not normal"

"No argument here, but even so what could it hurt?"

"What do you need?"

A loud thud reverberated through the cave as Barbara dropped her wrench.

"Why the hell do you assume I want something... is it so hard to believe I want to spend some free time with you?"

She asked while sitting up and for the first time that night looking him in the eye.

Bruce wished she hadn't ... the pain was all to evident in her eyes for his liking. And for once in his life Bruce Wayne was the one to blink first. His eyes darting about the room to rest on everything but the woman before him.

He was uncomfortable and it was obvious. He always felt that way around Barbara ... she was usually so honest and open when it came to her emotions. And he - he just wasn't.

"Willingly - yes"

"Fine then, forget I asked..." She said while pulling herself off the floor. Picking up her discarded wrench she walked over to the nearby workbench. Grabbing a rag she began to furiously wipe the excess grease off her hands.

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She was upset ... He didn't like it when she was upset. He wasn't good with her when she was upset. Because frankly when it came to women - Bruce was a complete and utter failure. He never knew what to do, or the right thing to say - and most of the time it didn't matter since half the women he went out with where only after his money. And the other half were only after him for his looks. Barbara, unfortunately fell into neither category of women.

She liked him for who he really was.

How she managed to do so he would never quite understand. Since it was something he himself was never able to accomplish.

Hesitantly he walked over to her, leaning against the edge of the workbench he faced her.

"What did you have in mind?"

Setting down the rag, her gaze remained fixed upon her hands. Her eyes refused to meet his.

"Nothing special - I just ... honestly I could use someone to talk to..."

"And you chose me"

At his questioning tone she looked up. Turning her head to the side her eyes locked on his.

And he wondered how they could gleam even in the darkness of the cave. Turning around she walked toward the stairs and out of the cave.

The final words she had whispered to him still echoing through his head.

"Incase you haven't noticed B - your all I've got"

Dammit ... he had messed up again.


	16. Of Like Minds

I was mixed about this one ... not sure where it came from or if it fits in, but since this really is just random bits and pieces I decided to post it. Thanks for all your reviews, I love feedback - AkuIku

* * *

The evening had gone surprisingly well ... too well if you asked Barbara.

The fact that Bruce had even suggested they go out to dinner, was enough to start sending up red flags in Barbara's mind.

She wasn't used to Bruce being so thoughtful... She wasn't used to him relenting in general, let alone giving in completely to something which he had been so firmly set against. Even when he had done something wrong, even when he wanted something from her - Bruce had never been willing to compromise... yet, he suddenly was now - and it terrified her.

Barbara nervously adjusted the straps of her dress, anxiously waiting for the waitress to arrive with their check. She had a feeling that this was Bruce's way of letting her down gently.

As the pair made their way slowly out of the restaurant, Barbara had to fight off the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ignoring, the sudden urge to flinch which went though her as Bruce helped her into her coat. His fingertips brushing carelessly against the bare skin of her shoulders. The overwhelming sense of dread which filled her as she slipped silently into the backseat of their limo, combined with the pounding of her racing heart was enough to drive her to distraction.

Her mind was racing - waiting for those hated words that would spell the end of their relationship. She was so intrenched in her own thoughts, that she hardly noticed Bruce slide into the seat next to her, or the slam of the car door as it was closed. Simply put, Barbara was too shocked by how well things had gone, to notice these things. As they drove back to the Manor, Barbara was struck by how normal it all seemed.

As if having dinner with Bruce Wayne was an every day occurrence. Then again, now that she thought about it - to her it was...

"This was nice Barbara, we should do it again sometime"

She jumped slightly in her seat, startled by Bruce's sudden statement. He'd obviously seen it because his face held this sort of bemused expression on it, one of his eyebrows raised in silent question.

Taking a deep breath, Barbara willed away the blush which had spread across her cheeks. Turning to Bruce, she managed to give a shaky yet unconvincing smile. "Sorry, I wasn't really paying attention and you startled me."

Bruce sighed turning away from her, his gaze settling on the scenery as it passed by. "You're still mad at me aren't you."

Barbara frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about, I'm not mad at you."

His head snapped her way, eyes narrowing at her words. "You've barely said three words to me the entire night. Of course you're mad at me."

Barbara sighed, shaking her head, her lips pressing firmly together. "I wish you wouldn't always try to guess what I'm thinking Bruce, your horrible at it."

Anger flashed through his eyes, he was getting annoyed with her, she could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw."Then do tell Barbara, what is it you're thinking in that little head of yours, that I've so thoroughly misconstrued."

Looking him dead in the eye, Barbara replied in a hollow voice."I've been wondering wether you're going to dump me before or after you drag me to bed tonight."

Silence reigned over them, Bruce's eyes growing large at her words and the haunted tone she spoke them in.

"Why would you ..." Bruce couldn't even form a coherent thought, not now - he was too shocked by what she had said.

"What was I supposed to think Bruce? That you had turned over some new leaf? That you were suddenly taking active interest in our relationship? That you were even allowing us to have a relationship, instead of keeping me hidden in the shadows like you usually do. I assumed that compromising your beliefs, was your way of letting me down gently." Barbara forced herself to go silent, biting down painfully on her tongue to avoid any more of her bitter comments from spewing forth.

"Why do you always assume, I think so little of you Barbara?" He asked staring sadly at the ghost of a woman sitting beside him.

"Because I think so little of myself..." Tears had started to trickle down her face before she even finished her sentence.

Pulling the handkerchief from his jacket pocket, Bruce began to gently dab at each cheek. "It seems that lately all I manage to do is make you cry."

Sniffling a bit, Barbara tried to pull herself together. Quelling her tears, Barbara gave Bruce a weak smile as he patiently tried to wipe away the streaks of mascara which now marred each of her cheeks. Bruce sighed, letting his hand fall away, before shoving his dampened handkerchief back into his pocket.

"I wasn't trying to 'let you down gently'."Bruce said leaning back in his seat with a heavy sigh. "I was trying to prove I was actually committed to us...I just sucked at it."

Barbara gave a very unladylike snort, smiling freely for the first time that night. "Why is it we can never seem to understand what the other one is thinking?"

Bruce turned away once again, his gaze lingering once again on the scenery. "I think we understand each other perfectly, we just don't like what we're thinking."


	17. Addict

Dont' ask were this came from ... or why I felt the need to us Webster's exact deffinition in my post ... AkuIku

* * *

To devote or surrender oneself to something habitually or obsessively ...

That was the definition of an addict.

... and Bruce was an addict.

He knew it, she knew it ... hell the whole world knew it. They might not have known who it was beneath the mask, but they fully realized he was a man possessed by his own demons...

He was addicted to all the pain and the misery he could inflict upon himself. He was addicted to the long sleepless nights, his days spent in an agonizing countdown to dusk. He was addicted to the strain his weary muscles would give as he pushed his body just past its breaking point.

He'd spent years torturing himself endlessly, about things he could never have hope to control. Punished himself for failings which only he could find in himself.

Bruce was an addict ... and she was addicted to him.

No matter how many times he'd push her away - Barbara would always come back to him for more.

Whatever she had to offer - Bruce wanted more of , and it was slowly killing her. Draining her of everything she was, of the light which had always shined so brightly from her eyes. Of the hope she had always held so dearly. But most of all of the abundance of strength she'd always had.

Her very soul was chained by his addiction, her fate sealed from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him. And yet she was helpless, could do nothing to save herself - would do nothing to save herself.

Obsession could never fully convey the compulsions they felt. Nor would it excuse the misery which they forced upon each other. They were haunted - by the ghosts of their past, by the knowledge of their future, and by their contempt for their present.

They were addicts ... and nothing good could possibly come from it.


	18. In the Beginning

Something I've had for a while ... hope you like. AkuIku

* * *

A boy dressed in a dark suit sat beneath a large oak tree. His eyes stared off listlessly into space, as if he didn't even see his surroundings. Birds chirped, and flew about the clear winter sky. A layer of fresh snow coated the ground, making the world seem pure and innocent. However this boy knew that was not the case. He had learned first hand that the world was a cruel and hurtful place. If it wasn't then he wouldn't have had to burry his parents today.

He had snuck out of the reception that had followed his parents funeral. Leaving behind the suffocating confinements of Wayne Manor for the wide expanses of the mansions rose gardens. He sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, memories playing over and over in his mind... a kiss on the cheek from his mother as she tucked him in every night ... his father affectionately ruffling his hair as he went off to school ... the look on their faces as they laughed at him, coming out of the movie theater...

That was how he longed to remember his parents - happy ... but no matter how hard he tried to forget - the first image which would come to mind at the thought of his parents, was that of their broken forms lying strewn across the pavement. He feared that the image of his mothers pearls floating in a pool of blood would always haunt him. And that from now on the thought of his parents would no longer bring him joy, but instead grief. That he would not remember them for the good they had done, but for the horrific way in which their lives were brought to an end.

He tried valiantly to hold back the tears which were forming. Closing his eyes, he bit down hard on his lip to keep from sobbing. He had to be strong, for his parent ... they wouldn't have wanted him to cry.

It was then that Bruce first came to the realization that this was how the world repaid kindness. That no matter what you did, there was always a maniac with a gun willing to kill you. So he decided then and there at eight years old that he was going to do something about it. What that was - he didn't know... but he'd do something...


	19. memories

Something just lying about my computer ...

* * *

They were yelling again...

It was worse then usual this time. I could hear mommy screaming along with the slaps which would echo through the room as my father's hand connected with her face. At four years old it was an all to familiar scene ... I couldn't remember a time with out the screams or the beatings. But this time was worse, much worse.

This time mommy never woke up ...

* * *

Awakening with a jolt, Barbara Gordon sat up in bed, one hand covering her chest in an effort to quell her racing heart. Releasing a strangled breath, she swallowed hard.

It was just a dream ...

She tried to remind herself that it wasn't real - that it wasn't happening all over again. But it never helped ... the memories always returned , always haunted her. Even as time had dimmed some of the minute details of the past - her feelings could never be forgotten. The pain, the anger, the fear ... they would always stay with her.

Closing her eyes she sighed ... how many years had it been since she had a decent nights sleep...


	20. repression

The first thought she'd had when she heard he was in the hospital was to drop everything and go to him. But the rational part of her mind wouldn't let her. So she stayed away, even though every fiber of her being screamed at her to rush to his bedside. The boys were there, both of them plus Alfred and if she had to guess -Leslie too. It hurt but she stayed away, she spent most of her time in the cave watching over the city, fielding calls from Clark and the rest of the league.

Her father knew something was wrong, and she was sure he was wondering why she didn't seem the least bit concerned that someone had just tried to kill her friend. If Alfred thought her presence was strangely lacking at the hospital, he never said anything - although he had far better things to worry about at the moment.

The temptation to see him was at its worst when she patrolled, when her rounds would take her within blocks of Gotham General. It was about a week after Bruce had ended up in the hospital when she finally caved and went to look in on him. It was dangerous, an unnecessary risk and Barbara expected him to be furious with her. She'd hacked into the hospital database and found out which room he was in. It was nearly two in the morning, and she was tiered and sore after patrol, but she forced herself to slip into the fourth floor window of Bruce Wayne's private room.

She'd instantly been met with the constant beeping of monitors, the dripping of IV's ... the quite snores of Tim who was curled up on a cot in the corner. She smiled ruefully at the boy before her eyes darted back to the figure in bed. His eyes were closed, his breaths even, for all intents and purposes he seemed to be asleep. Hesitantly she made her way toward his bedside, unwilling to wake either of the rooms occupants.

She grabbed the chart at the end of his bed, eyes quickly scanning over it's contents. Frowning she set the chart back at the foot of his bed, her gaze flickering up to land on Bruce's still form. He was lucky to be alive, with the number of times he'd been shot , the amount of blood he'd lost... he should be six feet under, but Bruce was nothing if not resilient. He'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last week, and Barbara wondered how he'd react when he fully realized where he was and what had happened.

Sighing she moved to his side, her hand hesitantly reaching out toward his own. She'd almost had a heart attack when his arm shot out, his hand clamping firmly around her wrist. At her gasp he'd let go, eyes immediately snapping open to stare up at her in confusion.

"What -" His voice was barely a croak, and she hushed him before he could even attempt to finish voicing his question.

"I know - I'll leave ... I just ..." She frowned, staring down at him. " ... it's been a week Bruce ... I could only force myself to stay away for so long ..." That said she turned around and made her way toward the window on the far side of the room.

"Thank you" She could barely make out his whisper over the sound of the machines, when she did she froze turning to give him one last look. Her response was to nod silently in understanding before sweeping out of the window and into the night.


	21. First Time

Another post - sorry about the delay ... every time I tried to write this I hated it ... this final version was inspired by Led Zeppelin no less ... don't know how - but I was listening to mothership and bam - inspiration struck. Review and let me know what you think, and thanks for everyone who's added me to their favorites. AkuIku

* * *

There was something about Barbara that had always intrigued him. She was a puzzle, and admittedly Bruce had always loved a challenge. Perhaps that's what first drew him to Barbara, her contradicting nature. The fact that even after years of friendship he could hardly tell where the real Barbara ended and her public persona began.

It was comforting in a way, finding someone like himself. And he supposed it was only a matter of time till things progressed, till the warmth he felt toward her grew into an uncontrollable blaze. Till she worked her way under his skin, a veritable itch begging to be scratched.

There is only so much that a man can take, especially a man as high strung and repressed as Bruce was.

After more then six months of carefully showed restraint, it had only taken six seconds and one ridiculously short dress to make Bruce snap. His only obstacle had been the fact that they'd been out in public, at a charity event no less. But as was previously stated Bruce loved a challenge, and the impropriety of it all did nothing to deter him.

He'd managed to catch her eye during cocktails, motioning somewhat discreetly for them to meet in the hallway. Twenty minutes later Bruce had managed to disengage himself from his date, who he'd been ignoring for the better part of the evening, hoisting the poor girl off on the first suit he'd seen.

He'd found Barbara waiting, albeit impatiently, in the nearly deserted hallway. Frowning, Bruce noticed a group of stragglers smoking upon the balcony at the end of the hall. He glanced at the nearest door, that of the lady's restroom, a plan quickly forming in his head. He could hear Barbara sigh beside him, glancing between the crowd on the balcony and the door of the ladies room.

She'd grown used to his paranoia over the years, and most likely thought he had something pertinent to discuss which he was hesitant to do in front of others. Or at least that's what he'd assumed as he watched her disappear behind the bathroom door. After getting her all clear sign, Bruce waited a few moments until he was sure no one was watching, then followed after her.

He made sure to lock the door, its deafening click startling Barbara almost as much as his silence. He could still remember the look of shock upon her face as he'd pinned her against the bathroom wall, lips colliding forcefully with her own. Bruce prided himself on the fact that she never knew what hit her. Relished the nervous tremor her body developed as he slid his hand up her thigh, his tongue delving fiercely into her mouth.

Their first time was coarse, rough, and hurried.

Calloused hands wandered soft skin, the fabric of her dress riding up to her waist.

It was spontaneous, fueled by lust and an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

Her gasps echoed through the room, her nails digging hard into the back of his suit jacket.

She'd been his refuge and he'd willingly lost himself in her.

His teeth scrapped roughly against the base of her neck, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she tumbled over the edge.

He could still remember the rush he'd felt throughout his body, the oblivion he'd eagerly welcomed as they both sank to the floor.

Perhaps somewhere deep within himself he'd always been attracted to her, or perhaps that was a lie concocted by his troubled mind to ease the unmistakable guilt he'd felt afterwords.

Things changed that night, for the good or the bad he'd yet to decide...

In the future he would prove to be more gallant, though Barbara never complained, he would always regret the manner in which he'd taken her. A voice remarkable like Alfred's echoing through his mind - _that was no way to treat a lady_.

Some relationships were never meant to happen, and until that night he had believed theirs was one of them. She was always off limits for reasons he did not care to reflect upon. Those reasons meant little in the end though, because Bruce found in Barbara an escape from the cruel world he lived in. For a moment he forgot who he was, and for that he'd forever be grateful.

What would come of it, was not clear.

But that Bruce would cling to his new found distraction, was certain.


	22. world of makebelieve

He was throwing another party... for the sake of appearances, and he'd asked her to come.

It was painful almost to watch him in action, that ridiculous smile plastered across his face. The whole time he was miserable, trapped in a life of falsehoods and lies of his own creation. And while his reputation meant little to him but a means of securing his anonymity beneath the mantel of the bat, Barbara cringed with every flash of the camera.

He'd be all over the papers tomorrow... not that he'd care.

No, he'd shrug it off - congratulate himself on work well done, and then begin planing his next exploit for the Gotham society pages. She was sure that the day he finally gave up his act, quite a few employees at the Times would find themselves out of a job.

Fed up with the rigor's of high society Barbara decided to sneak away from the party and began listlessly wandering the darkened halls of the manor. Eventually she found herself on the terrace overlooking the rose gardens, eyes staring up at the full moon. For some reason she'd always been drawn to this spot, mesmerized by its serenity and beauty. When her thoughts became too much for her, this was her escape - her sanctuary.

Right now her thoughts all surrounded Bruce, and her mounting annoyance with his playboy routine. Barbara wondered why it upset her so much, why she was so desperate for the world to know what a great man Bruce Wayne truly was. Perhaps she thought it was only fair, that he deserved it after all the sacrifices he had made to protect Gotham. That without this farce Bruce might actually stand a chance of being happy for once in his life. Or perhaps her reasons were selfish ones, she'd grown tiered of playing pretend, constantly having to stand on guard in public.

If Bruce was himself...if he could let go of his act, maybe she'd have a chance to stop pretending as well. She could finally be the real Barbara Gordon... whoever that might be. The prospect was a lot more appealing then she would have liked, because the reality of such a thing ever happening was next to impossible. Change never came easily to Bruce, actually it usually took brute force to make him surrender to it. So the likelihood of Bruce giving up his playboy routine, was slim to none.

Frowning, Barbara let her eyes trail from the moon to the gardens below. She shivered in the chilly night air, cursing as a breeze swept by, sending wisps of her hair flying in every direction.

He must have seen it, noticed that she's forgotten her jacket, because Bruce chose that moment to make an appearance.

"Come inside Barbara - it's freezing"

He'd snuck up on her, which wasn't all that surprising since he was Batman. Even so she refused to let him know he'd caught her unawares, fighting off the urge to flinch as he appeared out of the shadows. Much to her surprise he drew nearer, coming to stand beside her on the terrace.

"Beautiful night"

Barbara nodded wordlessly, gazing up at the stars once more. "Shouldn't you be inside - your guests will miss you."

From her tone, Bruce could tell she was referring to the flock of women who'd been swarming around him all night. For a moment Bruce wonder if that was jealousy, or simply disgust which had laced her voice. Frowning he glanced back toward the manor, just able make out the sounds of party goers, music and the din of conversations drifting from the ballroom.

"I'm sure Alfred can handle them for a few minutes."

Barbara sighed turning to look at the man beside her, almost groaning at the sight he made in his tux. "Go back to your party Bruce - you don't need to stay with me...I'm just not in the most sociable of moods."

He surprised her once more by silently laying a hand upon her shoulder. It's warmth seeping into her bare skin, the gesture alone a reminder of how cold she had been. They'd entered the manor together, Bruce returning to his party, Barbara returning to her wandering. Both completely unaware of the eyes which had watched them so curiously only moments before.


	23. Hope

Hope was hard to find in Gotham . . . a weak glimmer in a sea of darkness.

The city itself seemed to strip you of your hope, victimize you, condemn you to a bleak and miserable existence. For the few who tried to fight back Gotham showed no mercy, their plight was a never-ending one which weighed heavily upon them.

Revenge had been what drove them to act in the first place . . . duty what bound them to continue.

Sometimes it seemed inevitable, the slow decent into madness brought about by corruption and decay. Other times they could just make out a faint glimmer off in the distance, and the hope which sprung from that would be enough to force them on in their efforts once more.

Long ago they had realized that vengeance could never replace what the city had taken from them. That it was selfishness on their parts which had lead them to make a stand, not the noble intentions which the world had assumed.

Yet they fought on for a cause they no longer believed in, to atone for the sins they had meant to commit. Not out of fear of judgement or the great beyond . . . but out of some deep seeded self hatred and shame, the guilt of which weighed heavily upon their souls.

Giving up on Gotham now - would be to give up on themselves, to sink into the insanity they had worked so hard to stave off.


	24. Normal Assumptions

Well Once again - it's been a while... I recently happened to injure my foot and earn myself a somewhat unexpected 2 week vacation... spent the first week in bed going stir crazy - drugged out of my mind. This week I can finally start putting weight on it ... stitches come out next Friday and hopefully I'll be on the road to recovery. Until then I have plenty of time to devote to my fan fictions which I've been neglecting horribly. In all honesty I'm a bit down lately - just haven't been happy with my writing... here's something I didn't get a chance to post yet ... tell me what you think.

On a side note I'm putting together a livejournal page which will have all my fanfiction on it - including some things which I haven't posted on here ... feel free to stop by and tell me what you think (granted it's a work in progress) the link for it is in my profile.

Anyway hope you enjoy the fic - as always reviews are appreciated! AkuIku

* * *

He'd forced her to come tonight, to a birthday party for him he didn't want, full of people he didn't even like. Which would have been fine if he'd at least bothered saying hi to her, but for some reason Bruce Wayne was avoiding her tonight. So she'd stood awkwardly by the open bar sipping every once in a while at a glass of champagne, watching as everyone else seemed to have a great time.

She hated that about him, how hot and cold he'd run, all but forcing her to come then completely ignoring her once she showed up. It was humiliating, and after a few hours and another couple of drinks Barbara was ready to leave. Part of her wanted nothing more then to storm over to Bruce and give him a piece of her mind, another part of her just wanted to punch him. Both ideas probably stemmed from the fact that she was more then a little drunk by now, and Barbara knew better then to act upon either of them, but that didn't stop her from thinking about it.

She'd decided to call a taxi - since she was obviously in no condition to drive home tonight. She'd slipped out of the crowded ballroom, half walking half stumbling down the corridors till she made it toward the foyer. A server must have seen her and tipped off Alfred, assuming she was stupid enough to try and drive herself home, because out of nowhere he appeared at her side.

She ignored him, opening the large mahogany closet door, and beginning to search wildly for her coat and purse.

"I put your things in the study Mistress Barbara, I assumed you'd be staying over tonight."

Barbara growled slamming the door harder then she needed to before turning around and making her way as gracefully as she could manage toward Bruce's study. It always unnerved her when Alfred called her 'Mistress Barbara', and while she knew it was never said with anything other then the utmost respect she couldn't help but feel like he was mocking her.

Angrily she'd grabbed her purse off Bruce's desk, hastily beginning to dig through it in search of her cell phone. Unfortunately in her inebriation she was unable to find it, which was probably better for all parties involved, since Barbara doubted she wanted a cabby - even one from Gotham to see her in such a state. Next thing they'd know it would be front page of the Gazette that the Commissioner's daughter had a drinking problem.

Heaving a defeated sigh Barbara placed her purse back atop Bruce's desk, then stumbled her way over to the nearby couch. She sat there with her head in her hands, vaguely aware of Alfred saying something about getting her food and then disappearing. Barbara bitterly realized that he was politely trying to sober her up but couldn't really blame him with the number of gossip columnists milling just a few rooms over.

She'd spent the remainder of the night on his couch in the study, waiting for the lecture she knew she'd receive once the last of his guests had departed. Ruefully she'd thought of the meal that Alfred had been kind enough to bring her as a last supper of sorts, and Bruce as her impending executioner. She'd seen him in action with a sword - knew he fit the part.

What she hadn't expected was for Bruce to stumble wearily into the room and collapse beside her on the couch. Yanking mercilessly at his tie, he scowled when it showed no signs of coming apart.

"I hate Birthdays . . . I waste hours upon hours on a group of superficial, supercilious ingrates who want nothing more then a moment of my time so they can get their hands on a piece of my fortune."

Barbara blinked, watching Bruce glower at the lamp on the corner of his desk, unsure of what to say. His current misery was brought on entirely by his own actions, and she could never allow herself to feel particularly bad about that. Because in the end it was his own fault he was always so damn unhappy . . . And there she supposed lie the root of all their problems.

"Perhaps you shouldn't put so much emphasis on appearances. I'm sure by now, people have come to see you as the idiotic, womanizing, fop you so wished to portray."

She supposed it was a bit more vindictive then the occasion really called for, but he'd hurt her tonight so she'd felt like hurting him back.

"And perhaps you shouldn't drink yourself into a stupor just because you feel I've slighted you."

Barbara supposed she should feel honored by his lack of subterfuge, she could remember there was a time when she'd seen his brutal honesty as a sign of trust between the two of them. Now she just saw it for what it was, his incomprehension of social grace and common decency.

"You ignored me the entire night." She spat, turning to glare at him with as much ferocity as she could muster in her semi-inebriated state.

"I had more important things to do then play nursemaid to your wounded ego."

Scowling she decided to ignore his comment along with the smirk which seemed to be tugging at his lips. His arrogance knew no bounds, long ago Barbara had come to understand that Bruce derived a certain amount of pleasure out of baiting her.

"I don't know why it was so important for me to come . . . I felt like an idiot just standing there at the bar all night."

Blinking his smirk disappeared, the gleam in his eyes tapering out, the room descending into a somber silence.

"Would you rather I'd singled you out . . . had the press eating you alive by morning."

Rising from the couch, head held high, Barbara stumbled toward the door. A sigh covering her whispered reply as she disappeared into the hallway.

"Yes . . . "

Well what do you think ...? Was the ending a bit off ...because I'm not sure I like it... Akuiku


	25. Too Much Information

Just a little something I found on my computer - Akuiku

* * *

Sometimes Tim felt like the odd man out, like there was something going on that he didn't know about. Chances where, there usually was something going on that he didn't know about. In comparison to Dick he was young and inexperienced, and that often led to Bruce and Barbara keeping him in the dark. He understood this, and as much as it pained him to say it, he had come to except it. Yet it would be a lie to say that it didn't hurt...

Tim had been relieved when he herd the sound of Batman landing beside him on the roof of Wayne Enterprises. Their patrol was supposed to have started two hours earlier, and Tim had begun to worry about his absent partner. He hadn't expected an answer when he'd asked Bruce where he had been, and he didn't receive one. Instead he spent the next four hours prowling darkened rooftops, fighting petty criminals, and dodging bullets.

He was exhausted by the time they'd arrived back at the cave, walking off to the showers in a zombie-like state. He'd been ready to call it a night when he'd noticed something peculiar. Bruce had emerged from his shower shirtless, something in itself which wasn't too out of the ordinary. The strange scratches which covered his back however, where.

"What happened to your back?" Tim asked slightly confused, he'd thought they'd both arrived home tonight unharmed.

"Nothing" Bruce answered darkly.

Tim frowned coming to stand behind him. "Yeah like I believe that, your covered in scratches"

Bruce froze, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. "Tim, just go to bed" He said with a sigh, mortified at the thought of having to explain just where those scratches came from.

Tim ignored him, squinting in the dimly lit cave at the markings. "Hey wait these are ..."Tim went pale, jumping back slightly at the realization of what those "strange markings" really were.

They were nail marks - which meant ...

"Sorry" He mumbled cheeks burning in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to ... I was just worried that ..."

"It's ok Tim, go get some sleep"


	26. Why We Do It

Well it's been a long, long, long time since I've updated this or anything else ... I apologize but life really has kept me busy, and for a while there I seemed not be in a slump. Not wanting to write at all. Yet here I am back again with more Bruce/Barbara since they really are my favorite. So I hope you enjoy this one - it was inspired by a reviewer. Let me know what you think since I'm a bit rusty - AkuIku

* * *

"Why do you do it?"

Barbara wasn't sure what possessed her to ask, they'd been sitting in silence for twenty minutes now waiting for Batman to return. She'd never felt the need to strike up a conversation with Harley Quinn before .. Perhaps her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her, perhaps she wanted to understand how an upstanding citizen could attach herself to a demented clown, either way Bruce wouldn't be happy if he found out.

"It makes puddin' happy"

Barbara frowned, wondering what kind of flawed logic that was. The joker was a psychopath who cared what made him happy. She chose not to mention that, knowing it would send Harley into one of her ridiculous rants about how much her "puddin" loved her, and how no one understood him like she did.

"And it doesn't matter to you that his happiness comes at the price of innocent lives."

Harley didn't even spare a moment of thought before replying. "Does it matter to you?"

Barbara froze, unable to breath for a moment before turning to look at the woman beside her. They weren't talking about the joker anymore...

"I don't know what you're talking about."

In a stunning moment of clarity, Harley turned to her, eyes eerily blank.

"Somehow I doubt you have a house with a white picket fence, or a dog, or 2.5 kids ... that suit you wear won't let you."

Barbara spared a glance at her outfit, before returning her gaze to Harley and the homemade clown costume she sported.

"Neither will yours."

Shrugging Harley turned to look out over the city, her legs dangling back and forth over the roof ledge like a child.

"Like I said it makes puddin' happy."

_She wasn't doing this for Bruce ..._

Barbara frowned wondering where that thought had come from. This didn't have anything to do with him...or making him happy. She fought on for the city, and it's people ... didn't she.

"I'm happy with things just the way they are."

_She was a liar, and Harley knew it._

" ... And you call me insane - you're the crazy one if you actually believe that ... girls like us don't get happy endings."

_She was right ... they didn't. Girls like them found themselves clinging to what ever little source of normalcy they could find... Like Batman ... like the Joker ..._

"You don't know anything about me... we're nothing alike"

Barbara would deny it to her dying day, the things she discovered that night. Because honestly it's depressing when you find yourself relating to Harley Quinn.

"Really? Then let me ask you a question - Why do you do it?"

"To protect the people of Gotham." The answer automatically flew past her lips before she had a moment to consider what Harley had said, she'd had years of practice after all. Bruce had certainly drilled it into all of them over the years.

"How noble of you ... certainly reason enough to start off ... but what keeps you doing it?"

She found it disturbing how lucid a conversation they were having right now, she was supposed to be crazy. She'd thought she'd fallen in love with the joker for Christ's sake, they spent years trying to keep her in Arkham ... that was when Barbara realized one very poignant fact. Harley Quinn knew how to work the system, who better to play crazy then a former psychologist. Which meant the woman knew exactly what she was doing, that she fully understood the pain and suffering she inflicted upon their victims, and that she honestly believed she was in love with the joker.

Barbara didn't like that ...

Sighing she looking up at the crescent moon, this had been a mistake from the very beginning.

Beside her Harley sat grinning.

" you don't have to say anything ... I already know the answer. He's standing right behind you."

Barbara frowned, looking over her shoulder she watched Batman emerge from the shadows.

"The joker's been returned to Arkham, I think it's time you join him Harley."

She didn't know what possessed her but for some reason she stopped him from coming closer. Jumping up from her perch on the ledge Batgirl faced off against Batman, shoulders squared, eyes cold.

" I'll do it."

He gave her a suspicious glance, before turning to glare at Harley.

She hated how he always made her ask for permission.

"Thirty minutes - if you're not back I"m coming to get her myself." Turning away Barbara glared at his retreating cape.

"How kind" Batgirl spat, enjoying the way Batman froze, back stiffening before disappearing off into the night.

Tilting her head to the side, Harley grinned once more.

"See - we're not that different after all"


	27. Fireworks

Ok - First off I'm asuming that gotham has fireworks as some part of it's New Year's Eve Celebration... and I know this one is a bit unrealistic ... especially since as we speak it's snowing horribly outside, but I'm going to post this anyway. Because if a couple wants to have sex on a rooftop in the middle of winter, who's to stop them! Don't ask me where that came from - AkuIku

* * *

It amazed Bruce that out of everything - the long hours, lack of sleep, and physical strain he suffered on a nightly basis as Batman compared little to the overwhelming sense of loneliness which had gradually taken hold of him. He'd never seen a need for companionship before, never really understood what the word entailed until he'd managed to alienate those closest to him. When he was younger he'd always counted solitude as a blessing, most likely due to all the time he spent gaining his reputation as a playboy. He'd cherished the hours spent toiling in the caves, lost in his thoughts, it was only then that Bruce had ever felt completely at ease with himself.

"Your doing it again."

She was trying not to laugh at him, he could tell from the tone of her voice that she was desperately fighting off a smile. He liked to think it was merely an observation made by the detective within him, not a sign of growing attachment on his part, which lead him to know her so well.

"It's like you can't go five minutes without lapsing back into fits of brooding."

Bruce failed to see the humor in that, if anything it was actually rather depressing. His eyes narrowed as the redhead beside him burst out laughing.

"Sorry - just making an observation... I didn't mean to offend."

Sighing, Bruce nodded vaguely his gaze straying away form his companion to the Gotham Skyline at dusk. In the distance he could just make out the last rays of the sun disappearing beyond the horizon. Streetlights had already begun flickering to life on the east side, as the city slowly succumbed to night. Yet for once it was darkness which the citizens of Gotham where longing for, the couple perched high upon the roof of the Wayne Enterprise building included .

Bruce could still hear the rowdy masses making their way toward the harbor, faintly see the crowds which had gathered in Gotham Park. Last minute stragglers clogged the streets, perhaps late for a family gathering or a friends party. The sheer amount of activity going on in the city had been reason enough for him to ignore the significance of the holiday in the past. For he'd much rather spend a lonely night in the cave then suffer the horrors of New Year's Eve in Gotham.

It was bad enough that the amount of drunk and disorderly arrests tripled tonight alone. The already extended Gotham police force would spend most of the night cajoling inebriated citizens into the back of police cars. The Batman in him scoffed at such a notion, annoyed by the utter waste of officers and resources, both of which he felt there were much better uses for.

"I'm glad we decided to do this ..."

His gaze landed once more upon the woman beside him, an eyebrow raising at the smile she was directing toward him.

"...I mean, no crowds ... the best view in Gotham ... it was a good idea really."

He nodded his approval, silently thanking the gods above for Alfred and his penchant for thinking up ways to make Barbara happy. He'd hardly have been able to think up something like this on his own.

"I'm surprised Tim didn't want to come..." It was a thinly veiled question, one posed to him with a shy glance in his direction.

" A friend of his from school invited him to a party..._" - and I forced him to go, so we could be alone... _He added silently in his head.

"That's nice..." It was entirely too soft-spoken for Bruce's liking, especially coming from Barbara, even more unnerving since she seemed to have suddenly gotten a lot closer.

"Then is there some other reason why you're not making a move on me..."

"What?"

"Bruce - we're on a darkened rooftop 'alone', no chance of interruptions... and yet for some reason we both have all our clothes on."

"...but the fireworks ..."

" those weren't the fireworks I was waiting for B-"


	28. Best Laid Plans

Yes it's been a very very long time since I've posted anything... mostly because of college and work and life in general. I happen to be sick in bed right now and have been going through pieces I have saved to my laptop and finishing some and found this. Hope you enjoy -akuiku

* * *

Barbara Gordon had a plan... she was wearing the shortest skirt she owned, a low cut top, and thigh high leather boots. She was going out for once, taking a trip to Gotham's most notorious and trendy night club. If all went as planed by the end of the night she'd be having wild , meaningless sex with a good looking stranger.

Her plan it was foolproof really...

Unfortunately there was an outside factor Barbara failed to take into consideration when concocting her plan … and five minutes into playful banter with a fairly good looking trial lawyer he showed up. The club descended into chaos around her at Batman's appearance, Barbara found herself picking her way through the panicking masses while trying to avoid stray bullets.

Of all the nights for Bruce to shake down some local mobsters and inadvertently start a gun fight... it had to be the night she was wearing her "come fuck me" heels. Scrambling for the back entrance Barbara stumbled out into the cool night air, wishing she'd had time to grab her coat before her hasty exit. Glancing around the darken alley she'd been about to make her way toward the main street when the roaring of an engine sounded behind her, the batmobile appearing out of the darkness moments later.

"Need a ride?"

He had sneaked up on her somehow – although admittedly Barbara wasn't paying very good attention to her surroundings... her mind was focused on other things – like how cold she was, and how much her feet were starting to hurt.

"Thanks"

She didn't bother to put up a fight when she realized they were heading toward the cave instead of her apartment. Barbara was feeling disappointed, frustrated, and because of the sideways glances Bruce kept giving her – a little silly.

The silence was killing her …

"I just wanted to have wild sex with a total stranger … is that so wrong?"

She regretted her words the moment she'd spoken them, the last thing she wanted Bruce to know about was her lack of a sex life. Her only comfort was the fact that Bruce just seemed to stare blankly at her for a moment – apparently she had thrown him.

"Whatever happened to romance?"

She couldn't stop the bitter chuckle which escaped her... maybe she was becoming old and jaded.

"Masked vigilantism, and an inability to commit."

And that was the story of both their lives … commitment to an almost unobtainable goal and an unwillingness to let anything, or more appropriately anyone get in the way of that.

He'd actually paused for a moment, letting his gaze travel over her, and she could only imagine how ridiculous he thought she was right now …. dressing like this in some desperate attempt to have a one night stand. He was probably reminded of all the woman who'd thrown themselves at him over the years.

Sighing in defeat Barbara stared blankly at Bruce.

"I look like a hooker don't I."

She could count the times she'd ever heard Bruce Wayne truly laugh on one hand … this was one of them. It was a pleasant sound which invaded the silence of the car, a warm rich laugh which never failed to make her smile.

"Go a head laugh it up playboy – keep mocking the poor, thirty-six year old, glorified secretary … you do realize dressing like this is the only way I can compete with the younger, stupider, more attractive girls."

Frowning Bruce pulled into the cave, shutting down the engines to the batmobile but refraining from opening the doors.

"Do you honestly believe that?"

Sighing Barbara pushed open her door, growling as she struggled to exit the car. "Would I be dressed like this if I didn't?"

Limping her way to the closest chair she allowed her eyes to roam the confines of the cave, surprised when Alfred appeared to be missing.

"It's his night off"

Blinking, Barbara stared up at Batman's hulking form, watching as he peeled back his cowl raising a hand to swipe at his ruffled hair. It was always an odd site, Bruce in costume but without his mask … reconciling the playboy with the vigilante was nearly impossible for her, opposite ends of the spectrum , the real Bruce laying somewhere between the two.

"You don't have to dress like that to get a man's attention Barbara."

God did he have to sound so condescending... just because he knew her father didn't mean he had to act like one... especially when he was only 4 years older then her.

"Please don't lecture me – I already have a father."

"Believe me my thoughts are anything but fatherly right now."

With that he disappeared off in the direction of the showers, leaving Barbara gaping at the empty cave.


End file.
